


How Did We Get Here??

by GremlinG4mer



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Minecraft Manhunt but its actually real, Schlatt is a bitch, and tubbo is a babie, brainwashing pog, it'll all make sense in time, okay bear with me here, they're trapped in the game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GremlinG4mer/pseuds/GremlinG4mer
Summary: to be honest with you all, i am quite tired and my brain doesn't quite function. but this idea grabbed me by the spleen and told me to write it down so i did and here it is.im not the best writer but i hope you enjoy
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 60





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> to be honest with you all, i am quite tired and my brain doesn't quite function. but this idea grabbed me by the spleen and told me to write it down so i did and here it is.
> 
> im not the best writer but i hope you enjoy

“Second batch is taken care of.”

“Wonderful! You did an excellent job. Did they struggle?”

Schlatt stared into the darkness of the cave in front of him. His employer refused to show himself, not even to give Schlatt the payment they had agreed upon. Schlatt wasn’t in it for the money, for once, but to get revenge. But… 

“Not in the slightest.” Schlatt smirked and sat back on the crude wooden chair that had been provided for him. It was true, Wilbur hadn’t struggled. He had pleaded for hours, yelling at the sky, saying “why me, why me, why me”. To be fully honest, it was a pathetic sight to see. Schlatt had only felt remorse for a moment before slicing the fucker’s throat right open. It was Wilbur’s fault he was trapped in this stupid fucking game, anyway. If that moronic British dickhead hadn’t been such a bitch, he wouldn’t have needed revenge, the mysterious employer wouldn’t have reached out, and Schlatt wouldn’t have accepted the offer, which had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Half a million dollars to get revenge on the man who ruined his perfect rule in Manburg. Sure, it was just a video game back then, and it was all an act, but then ‘Mr. Soot’ had gotten the support of literally everyone on the fucking server! Even Dream had only been on his side to steal the small amount of clout he owned. He had been left with nothing. And if Schlatt needed anything in life, he needed power. He had been promised power! Instead, his employer had somehow managed to CODE HIM INTO THE DAMN GAME. But at least he had gotten the satisfaction of killing Wilbur Fuckhead Soot.

“I’m proud of you, J. You’re almost done. One more batch, and you’ll be free. You excited?”

JSchlatt snorted. “No, I love being trapped in a fucking video game. I’ve never had so much fun.”

“There’s no need to be like that. You got your revenge, now it’s time for me to get mine.”

Schlatt sighed. He might as well, it’s not like he had anything better to do. “Who am I killing this time?” 

“No one.”

“Huh?” Schlatt raised his eyebrows and leaned forward, playing with his horns.

“This time, they’ll do the work themselves. All you have to do is make sure everything goes to plan.”

Schlatt’s eyes widened. “You’re going for the big man.”

“I am.”

He whistled. “You’ve got some ambition, my dude.”

“It will all go to plan.”

Schlatt stretched, yawned loudly, and stood up. “Well, guess I’ll see you around.”

“Don’t fail me, J.”

As he walked out of the cave, the bright sunlight burned his eyes. Slinging his sword over his broad shoulder, he smiled greedily. “Never have, never will.”


	2. It Begins

Shapes. Colors. Squiggles and wavy lines like tiny bugs floating around in a sky that could be compared to a half-finished puzzle. Yellows and blacks, dancing and twirling, every so often a flash of blue to accompany their choreography. The colors are emotionless. The colors are free. The colors don’t have to wake up at four in the morning to prepare for a video.

Tubbo sat up, rubbing his eyes in the bright sunlight. He hadn’t had much time to sleep the night before, as he hadn’t finished his maths homework and he knew his teacher wouldn’t accept ‘I was streaming on Twitch’ as a valid excuse. But he.... wasn’t in his bed. Where was he?

The sunlight was so blinding that Tubbo couldn’t see his surroundings for a good thirty seconds. Once his vision had cleared, he could see trees. Just trees. Oh, and a red flower. Tubbo got up, stretching, not really comprehending his situation yet, and picked the flower. It was a vibrant, firetruck red poppy, though... it seemed a little… off. The color was just a bit TOO bright, and the petals looked almost fake, though they certainly smelled like a real flower. Tubbo stroked one petal with his thumb and gasped as a shooting pain traveled up his arm. The palm of his hand looked as if someone had ripped a piece of paper into quarters and then hastily taped it back together. Whimpering, he sank to the ground. Maybe this was still just a dream. Maybe he was just tired, and if he fell asleep again, he’d wake up at home. Maybe… maybe… he thought as he lost consciousness and the strangely intense sunlight faded into black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unlike Tubbo, Dream understood immediately. He didn’t know why, or how, but he had played enough Minecraft to recognize its presence, even if it wasn’t blocky. Being a speedrunner means thinking on your feet and prioritizing your circumstances, and that translated into real life as well. Or… whatever this was. So Dream did what everyone does on their first day in Minecraft. He punched a tree. 

It took three full-strength punches per log and quite a lot of pain in his knuckles, but Dream managed to collect 14 oak logs before night fell. He made a crafting table and wooden tools, and started mining down, trying desperately not to think of anything other than going through the motions. Get stone. Find coal. Make pickaxes and if one breaks, make a new one. Look for iron but don’t get too close to a cave because you’re not prepared and you don’t know what’ll happen if you get shot by a skeleton or pushed into lava or--

This was why he tried not to think. 

When morning arrived, Dream had a full set of stone tools and a furnace with five iron cooking. He sat on the cold stone floor of his makeshift house and lay back against the wall. The sun was shining, there was a pig oinking outside, and Dream was exhausted. He closed his eyes. His thoughts started mixing together and he drifted off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, there’s some cobble here!”

“Might be a spawner.”

“George, are you stupid, we’re on the top of a mountain! Spawners are below ground!”

“Well, uh…”

“Guys, focus maybe?”

“Sorry, Bad.”

“OH DREAAAAM! WHERE ARE YOU? COME OUT OF YOUR LITTLE CAVE!”


	3. A Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ha ha have fun with this one guys :)

Dream’s eyes shot open before he even had time to fully wake up. His heart was pounding in his ears. Breathing shallow, hands shaking, he stayed as still as possible while his friends loudly discussed their plan of attack. 

“He might have blocked it off as a trick to lead us down the wrong path…” In any other circumstances, Bad’s nasally voice would’ve been calming.

Sapnap’s snort echoed through the small cave. “Nah, it’s early game. He’s probably in a cave somewhere, getting full iron before we even have decent swords.” 

That was good to know, Dream thought. He didn’t want to take them on just yet, and hopefully he’d never have to. But, if worst came to worst, his iron axe would do quite a lot of damage. 

The hunters continued bickering as Dream looked for a way out that wouldn’t require hurting his three best friends. He could run through the cave, but there wasn’t much light and creepers would be deadly at this stage. He could go out and face them, but even with his axe, three versus one was too risky. He could dig around and exit behind them…

Yeah, that’d work. 

Dream slowly pulled out his pickaxe, wincing whenever it touched the floor, praying no noise would be made. Hopefully the hunters were too involved in their argument to be listening for signs of his presence.

This world wasn’t entirely the Minecraft he was used to. The stone, while it did break in a block, fell to the floor in pebbles and only became blocky again when he shoved it into his inventory. The inventory itself was something else Dream tried not to think about. His left hand had been slashed open and appeared to have a small disc inserted before having been sewn roughly back together. Whenever he opened his fist, a small screen appeared, filled with cobble and diorite, and a single piece of string from a spider he’d barely been able to fight off. The pain was slowly dulling as he worked on his small tunnel, one minor thing he was able to be thankful for. 

Soon, the gray stone turned into rough dirt, and it was getting harder to be silent with his heart pounding at the possibility of fighting his friends. However, the dirt meant that Dream was almost in the clear. The small hill he had dug into was coming to an end, and he’d be able to make a run for it.

Taking a second to calm his breath and stop the tremor in his hands, he opened his inventory and grabbed an apple he'd shoved in there earlier. He lifted his mask and begrudgingly bit into it. The bite felt like styrofoam around his teeth and the plastic-like sheen of red from it was visible even in the dark. It wasn't pleasant, but it was all he had. He'd have a chance for proper food once he was out of this hole.

Last block.

He finished the final bite of his apple, took a deep breath, and broke the dirt.

The hunters’ voices abruptly grew louder. 

Soil jammed under his fingernails as he hauled himself out of the hole in the ground and broke into a sprint, praying he had enough of a head start to outrun his friends.

He didn’t, no, couldn’t look back, but he heard shouting as the three hunters realized what had happened. 

Branches and leaves whipped in Dream’s face, every hit jostling his mask against his nose. His feet pounded on the grass, with no concern for his aching lungs. He couldn’t stop, not now. He was so close. Once he was over that ridge, he would be free.

At least for now.

“DREAM! COME AND FIGHT US!” Sapnap’s voice echoed in Dream’s ears.

“Leave me alone!” Dream yelled, sparing a glance at the trio chasing him.

He felt a pang of grief wash over him at the sight of his friends. George had his signature dyed leather hat, this time a diluted yellow, the same color Dream knew his bright green hoodie appeared to his colorblind friend. Sapnap’s headband whipped around his black hair as he charged forward. Bad stayed at the back of the group, holding a stone axe loosely in his staticky fingers, hood draped over his bright white eyes. Dream noticed something different in those eyes, something he didn’t see in Sapnap or George. He could be wrong, but… it looked like Bad was unwilling to fight. He looked pained, like he knew something was wrong here, but he couldn’t think of what it was. And that gave Dream an idea.

He stopped running.

“STOP!” he yelled, hastily shoving his axe back into his inventory. He raised his hands up to his face and took off his mask. “It’s me, you guys. I’m your friend.” 

George laughed. “Meh, I never really liked you that much anyway.” He raised his stone sword and rested it under Dream’s chin, smirking. “And now, I get to get rid of you!” George violently grabbed Dream’s arm and twisted it back, forcing him onto his knees.

“Wait, no, I wanna do it!” Sapnap whined, raising his axe.

“No, I got here first, Sap, go away!”

Dream’s mind was racing, jumping through possible routes of escape, mentally kicking himself for not running when he had the chance. His friends- his friends!- were going to kill him. They were going to chop his head off and leave the rest of him to rot in this fucking birch forest. He stared into George’s eyes, heartbroken at the lack of recognition in his friend’s face as he bickered with Sapnap. Dream took one last glance at Bad, desperately trying to communicate. The man with the face of a demon and the soul of an angel, the only one who seemed hesitant. Dream’s eyes, filled with emotion, tried to beg, ‘please help, you know this isn’t right, you’re my best friends, can’t you see this is real, I don’t want to die.‘

George pushed Sapnap onto the grass triumphantly and raised his sword to Dream’s neck, grinning wildly. 

The sword was swung back like a baseball bat. Dream closed his eyes and waited for the cold stone to take his head off. Soon, nothing would matter. He’d never have to figure out why he was trapped in a video game. He wouldn’t have to worry about getting home to his family. He’d be nothingness. That thought was soothing, in a morbid way.

But the strike never came.

Dream opened his eyes. Bad’s dark fingers were curled around George’s blade, silver blood dripping into the grass at his feet. George, confused, dropped the sword. 

“Bad, what…”

“Let him go.”

“But… why?”

Bad glanced at Dream, still on his knees. “Let him have a head start. It’s no fun if we kill him right away.”

“Fiiiine…” Sapnap grunted. “Go away, Dream.”

Dream wasn’t going to wait for them to rethink their decision. He scrambled onto his feet, haphazardly securing his mask onto his tear-streaked face. Had he really been crying?

He bolted back into the forest and didn’t stop until he reached a ledge overlooking another forest, this time with oak trees. For the first time since he had been drop-kicked into this world, he took the time to catch his breath. Dream stared out into the oak forest. The sun was setting and the harsh beams softened into a beautiful sunset. It was quite a sight,, but he knew that with the darkness came monsters. He climbed down the ledge, careful to test each step before committing. It took almost the entire sunset, but he made it in time to dig a hole in a stone outcrop. 

Dream was about to close himself in for the night, but something stopped him. He could swear he heard something moving behind him…

“...hello?” a small voice asked.

“Oh my God, Tubbo?!”


	4. So...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bonding time for the boys!!!! enjoy!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok im sorry this one's pretty short but i wanted to put at least something out today bc I'm on a roll
> 
> enjoy!!!!

Dream rushed out into the cold night air, scanning rapidly for any sign of the small boy. The darkness clogged his vision, and his heart was still racing, anticipating a monster attack at any moment. Through the trees, he spotted a small figure, hiding in a clump of bushes.

“Tubbo?” he asked again.

“I- it’s too dark, I can’t see, who’s there?”

“It’s me, Tubbo, it’s Dream!”

The shadow stumbled out and took the shape of a short, dark-haired boy in a green button-up. He ran forward and fell into Dream’s arms.

“Oh my God, I’m so glad it’s you, there were zombies, and they looked like people, and I don’t understand, Dream, where are we, why are we here, I was at home and now I’m here, and my hand hurts, what happened?!” Tubbo clutched Dream’s waist like a child clutches a teddy bear while their parents are fighting. He let out a small sob, muffled by the green hoodie.

Dream extracted his arm from the child’s grip to awkwardly pat his head. “To be honest, I’m not sure I understand either, Tubbs.” Dream winced at the use of the nickname. He’d never been good at comforting people, especially when he himself was scared. He couldn’t answer any of Tubbo’s questions, and he had even more of his own. He knew it was his responsibility to protect the boy, but how could he do that if he couldn’t even protect himself from his own best friends?

“Come on, we gotta get inside,” he said, untangling himself from Tubbo’s skinny arms and leading him into the tiny hole. Dream extracted his furnace from his inventory and set it next to his crafting table. Tubbo sat on the hard stone floor and watched Dream fuss over a piece of steak. Dream knew he’d have to explain his suspicions soon, and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

The steak finished cooking and he gave it to Tubbo without saying a word. He sat across from the boy and started organizing his inventory.

“What’s that screen for?” The question startled Dream out of his mindless organizing.

“Its, uh…” he fumbled, and then sighed. “Okay, so here’s the deal, Tubbo. I might be horribly wrong, but… I think we’re in Minecraft.” Dream smiled nervously, preparing for Tubbo to laugh.

The boy didn’t say anything. He just picked at his steak with trembling fingers, waiting for Dream to continue.

“I mean, I- it just seems… the trees are so fake, and the zombies, and then there’s the inventory… that’s the disc in your hand-” he pointed to Tubbo’s left hand, still being cradled gingerly in his lap- “and the crafting table and furnace, and everything is just… Minecraft, and then there’s the hunters-” Dream realized he had been rambling in an effort to sound like he knew what he was talking about, but had completely missed the mark.

Tubbo looked up, a glint of fear in his eyes. “Hunters?”

“Yeah, you know, like in Minecraft Manhunt. It’s George, Sapnap, and Bad.”

“Dream, are they going to kill us..?” Tubbo asked quietly, staring into the holes in Dream’s mask.

He shouldered his axe and stood up, his head almost hitting the low ceiling, towering over Tubbo. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”


End file.
